


in its place, this one bright thing

by uptillthree



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, caprimonth day 21/22: personal choice & gold, tentatively continued due to very small demand, this fic is an actual unedited trainwreck, yes i know it's late
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-05-28 09:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15045956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uptillthree/pseuds/uptillthree
Summary: Fifteen minutes into their impromptu meetup, Erasmus asks him, “Why did you pick me to help you?”Laurent considers him. “You’re a good friend of Damen,” he says. It’s a surprisingly simple thing. “I think you’d know what he’d like. And you’re my friend, too.” After a hesitant moment, he continues: “And, Nicaise and Vannes would both just mess with me if I asked them. Auguste is at a conference today, and Nikandros couldn’t keep a secret like this from Damen if his life depended on it.”Erasmus laughs softly at him. “Okay,” he says. “Come on, then.”(Laurent is planning to propose. Damen is also planning to propose. Fortunately for both of them, it's not a race. Really.)





	1. this one bright thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposedly for caprimonth day 21/22 ('personal choice' & 'gold'), and i had this half-done like two days before it was due, and then i promptly lost all motivation and was only able to pick it back up today. creative blocks and depressive episodes just be like that sometimes. sorry if the content is a bit lacking/short. 
> 
> (this was mostly me thinking about how laurent, before meeting damen, definitely didn't consider himself as the 'marrying type,' and yet he would, definitely, also want to spend the rest of his life with damen, and, so, ??????? don't stress urself out thinking abt it laurent)

Fifteen minutes into their impromptu meetup, Erasmus asks him, “Why did you pick me to help you?”

Laurent considers him. “You’re a good friend of Damen,” he says after a moment. It’s a surprisingly simple thing. “I think you’d know what he’d like. And you’re my friend, too.”

Erasmus flushes. “I know.”

The way he says it, Laurent can tell he’s still confused, so, after a hesitant moment, he offers: “And, Nicaise and Vannes would both just mess with me if I asked _them._ Jord is about as opinionated as a brick, Auguste is at a conference today, and Nikandros couldn’t keep a secret from Damen if his life depended on it. I suppose I could try Berenger—if I wanted something dreadfully plain. There’s Ancel, too, but then I might as well just buy the most expensive ring in this place and be done with it.”

Erasmus laughs softly at him. It’s already far more than he’d usually share in a normal conversation, but Erasmus is the sort of person who is refreshingly _easy_ to talk to, where there is no judgment or threat of his words being used against him—it’s how they ever became friends in the first place. It’s not like _Laurent_ is the particularly friendly type.

“Also,” Laurent says, nudging Erasmus’ elbow, “I do appreciate your input. You’re my best bet here.”

Smiling brightly, Erasmus twines his arm with Laurent’s and pulls him forwards. “Okay,” he says. “Come on, then.”

 

 

The amount of sheer extravagance in the store, Laurent thinks, would probably be enough to feed a very small country. Every surface shines, and through thick glass are rows of necklaces and bracelets and accessories. At Laurent’s request, the storekeeper Guilliame shows them their set of engagement rings.

There is a strange, irrational flutter in Laurent’s stomach, as he peruses Guilliame’s glittering collection; even now, even four years later, whenever Damen is the subject of thought, suddenly Laurent cannot think at all.

The presence of Erasmus at his side makes the entire afternoon considerably less nerve-wracking, and for a while Laurent just allows the mindless chatter, Erasmus pointing out which ones would look nice on Damen and catching up on the most trivial details of Laurent’s life.

“When do you plan to give it to him?”

“I haven’t even bought one yet, Erasmus.”

“Don’t sidestep the question. As if you do anything without thinking twenty steps ahead.”

“I—” Laurent breathes out a laugh. “We’re having dinner out tonight. Just. If the opportunity presents itself.”

Erasmus smiles. “Well, in that case, I sincerely hope it does.”

“Mm. I’ve—well. I’ve asked Nicaise what he thinks, since—if we married—Damen would legally be his guardian as well. And then Theo would be his half-brother, I suppose. I don’t know.”

Erasmus is positively _beaming._ “Wow.”

“What.”

“Laurent de Vere, you’ve been thinking about this a _lot.”_

Heat climbs up his neck. “Oh, be quiet.”

“So? What did Nicaise think?”

“I got called a soft, hopeless romantic for my trouble.” Erasmus laughs at him. “But he has no complaints and we both know it.”

After a long deliberation and with Erasmus’ enthusiastic approval, Laurent chooses a thick, gold ring, with an elegant, circular white diamond cut into the top, the design intricate but simple. Laurent cannot help but think of the bright gold on Damen’s dark hands, and the image of it sets his pulse beating faster. Guilliame commends his choice of purchase and wishes him luck.

“I’m so happy for you,” Erasmus says.

“Erasmus, you’re sweet, but he hasn’t even said yes yet.” _I don’t even know if I can get up the nerve to ask him,_ Laurent thinks.

  


“It’s a little old-fashioned, don’t you think?” Laurent asks later, warming his hands with the cup of hot chocolate. They’re at the nearby coffee shop they used to study in together, back when they were at uni.

“What is?”

“The whole thing,” Laurent says. “Engagement. Marriage.” He’s not entirely sure why he’s voicing these thoughts now—he’s already bought the ring, for fuck’s sake. He’s already made the conscious, deliberate decision that he _wants_ to spend the rest of his life with Damen. He did that years ago, really.

Erasmus looks up from his own cup and stares at him, a little smile lifting his lips. “You really think so? I mean. Same-sex couples couldn’t marry until, well. A few years ago or so. Lots of places they still can’t.”

“I meant—just the idea of it, I suppose. Binding your life to a person. For, supposedly, forever.” It’s almost too much. Almost. Laurent is cold and aloof by a lot of people’s standards, but he is also in love. Cautious as ever, but in love. Trying to explain his point better, he adds, “You and Kallias have been living together for far longer than Damen and I without being _married,_ and you’ve been doing wonderful.”

The tips of Erasmus’ ears turn red. “Yes, but— we weren’t _together_ then, we were just. Looking for a place to stay, and someone to stay with, and we were already close friends, so.” He kicks Laurent under the table. “You and Damen have definitely been in a relationship longer, _and_ you’ve been living together for half that time.”

“More than half,” says Laurent, smiling. He lets the hot chocolate burn his tongue. The little box is a comfortable weight in his jacket pocket, just heavy enough for him to notice and be aware of it. He knows the ring doesn’t necessarily mean _marriage,_ but—it introduces the concept, certainly. They’ve talked about it before, in jokes and sappy conversations, but this—

Erasmus starts laughing.

“What,” Laurent says, flat.

“I’ve never seen you so _fidgety.”_  When Laurent sends him an affronted glare, Erasmus laughs again. Erasmus is one of the few people who laughs at Laurent without a hint of fear of remorse. Laurent is starting to regret it. “I’m sorry, just—you seem to be thinking so hard about it, and—” Erasmus shrugs. “Oh, Laurent, I don’t even know what you have to be worried about.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I’m surprised Damen didn’t beat you to the whole proposing thing.” Erasmus takes his hands. “Laurent, I can’t imagine a world where he’d say no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laurent probably almost buys a ring with the rainbow flag colors because it's cute, but Erasmus talks him out of it. Also, Auguste is probably lying about the conference he has and is instead at a different store helping _Damen_ buy an engagement ring, and then Damen and Laurent end up pulling out their rings and proposing at the same time at dinner in varying states of nervousness.


	2. so bright that the eyes overbrimmed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i really write this dumb chapter instead of the other hundred things i should be prioritizing??? yeah. yea i did
> 
> (i wish i could tell yall if you'll ever get the Actual Proposal chapter, but tbh my schedule/free time/motivation or lack thereof changes everyday. if it's any consolation i hope i manage to get it out before end of the next month too.)
> 
> (thank u for all the comments!! yall are sweet!!)

“He’ll say yes, won’t he?”

At the question, Auguste looks up at Damen, who’s rolling his still-almost-full mug of beer around in his hands. Auguste’s already emptied his, because really, they’ve been at this conversation for a _while._ “Like. Probably. I’d give it maybe a seventy-five percent chance,” Damen says. “Right?”

Auguste watches him listlessly. “More like a ninety percent, buddy.” He, unlike this idiot here, has no illusions about Laurent’s feelings on the matter.

“Yeah? Y’sure?”

“Uh, huh. You know, if you’re just gonna roll that around like it’s a stress ball, might as well just give it to me.” Without waiting for permission, he reaches out and takes the mug from Damen’s hands, taking a long swig from it.

“Hey!”

“You shouldn’t, anyway,” Auguste says, clapping him on the back. “Wouldn’t want to propose drunk. Laurent would kill you.”

“I wasn’t gonna get drunk off _one_ beer,” Damen mutters. Really, _mutters._ Auguste’s younger brother is dating a five-year-old.

Auguste ignores him and takes another swig. “I, on the other hand, am in dire need of alcohol. To deal with the fact that my baby brother is probably going to get married soon.”

“Oh, ha, ha. Don’t let Laurent hear you call him baby brother.” Damen takes back his mug and drinks from it. Then, after a moment, he asks, “Is it a good idea to do it in public? I mean, what if he says no—”

“Damen.”

“I mean, it would be fine—embarrassing as fuck, but I’ll live, right?—but what if he wants to say no but feels too pressured to do that in a restaurant? Like, I could always postpone, I could just propose some other time when we’re at home or something—”

“Damen.”

“I promise I’m not drunk, I’m not even tipsy, you’re just my designated sounding board for all my nerves today.” Damen takes another drink and then sets the mug down hard on the table.  

Auguste can’t help it, he outright laughs. It’s adorable, what can he say. Damen scowls at him. “Okay, loverboy, relax. I thought the entire point of the dinner was to propose?”

“Yeah, but if—”

“That’s that, then. If you back out at the dinner you owe me two beers.”

“Isn’t it considered a bit—I _don’t know,_ coercive? I don’t want to put pressure on him, at _all,_ and I’ve seen some articles about why public relationship announcements are usually not—”

“Oh, Lord.” Auguste snorts, but it’s mostly good-natured. He thinks: This is why. This is why, all his jokes and teasing and threats aside, he’s… he’s _happy_ Laurent has Damen. He’s never been so relieved and grateful that a man as good and kind as Damen is _here,_ wanting to give Auguste’s brother the love and happiness he deserves, in the best possible way.

Not that he’s gonna tell Damen _that_ out loud.

“Alright, listen here, buddy,” Auguste says instead. “If you actually think you’re _capable_ of pressuring or embarrassing _Laurent,_ especially in public, you’re fooling yourself. Also, _no,_ you are not going to _postpone_ after dragging me all around the mall for your perfect fucking ring.”

“Mm.” Damen taps his fingers on the handle of his mug. “You think it’ll still be a surprise? I wanted it to be.”

Auguste actually thinks about it. “I don’t think he knows—hasn’t said anything to me, at least—but I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. It’s Laurent.”

“Yeah.” Damen puts a hand to the pocket of his pants, and Auguste knows he’s checking for the ring, making sure it’s there. When he looks up at Auguste, there’s something in his face that’s gone so soft and vulnerable and in _love_ that Auguste feels like he’s intruding just by meeting that intense, open gaze. “It’s Laurent.”

 

**6:24 PM**

**damen**  
_active now_

 **damen  
** hey auguste  
im outside the restaurant

aren’t you like half an hour early?????

 **damen  
** yh  
i overestimated how long it wld take to buy the flowers  
also its better thn being late

touche

 **damen  
** im inside waiting for him

why are you telling me this???

 **damen  
** nerves. ur the sounding board  
also ive been chatting nik for the past 3 hrs  
so i figure ive pissed him off enough for today

right. of course

 **damen  
** im prob gonna text u a lot  
at least till he gets here

im going to die  
or throw up

damen  
you’re an actual wimp  
what the hell

 **damen  
** if i do die tell laurent i love him

i can’t believe i helped you pick an engagement ring for my brother

 **damen  
** ITS TOO LATE U ALREADY GAVE ME UR BLESSING EARLIER

ILL TELL U HOW IT GOES

personally, you absolutely Do Not Need to share the details  
but sure

 

 

**6:39 PM**

**lulu  
** _active now_

 **lulu  
** AUGUSTE  
I NEED YOU TO CONVINCE ME TO DO THIS ONE THING

what thing?

 **lulu  
** Intellectually, I already know it’s the right thing. It is what I want, and there is nothing wrong that will come of it.  
It is, hypothetically, the correct step forward, and I will have no regrets after doing it.  
It’s what will really make me happy. I just have to be brave enough to take that step.

Really, I just need you to repeat that back at me.

uh  
laurent, what is this about????????

 **lulu  
** Less questioning, more advising and comforting, thank you!!!!!

uhhhhh???

Laurent, you already know it’s the right thing to do. It is what you want, and there is nothing wrong that will come of it.  
It is, hypothetically, the correct step forward, and you will have no regrets after doing it.  
It’s what will really make you happy. You just have to be brave enough to take that step.

 **lulu  
** THANK YOU

You clearly just copypasted my message and changed the  pronouns, but whatever, it’s fine! I’ll take it!! Thanks!!!!

WHAT IS THIS ABOUT????????????  
what’s with all the exclamation points????? what are you nervous about??? should i call?????  
don’t you have a date??????

 **lulu  
** I know, Auguste, I’m already at the restaurant.  
I even have flowers for him. I’m good. Completely fine. Relax.

REALLY starting to doubt that

is something up????

 **lulu  
** Just saw Damen! Catch you up later!! Bye!!

?????????????????

 

(As it turns out, neither of them ever text Auguste back that night.)


	3. with the simple confidence of long familiarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is that Damen has been planning this for months. 
> 
> The idea first came into his head around a year ago. He woke one morning, Laurent’s head nestled in the crook of Damen’s neck, his golden hair tickling his shoulder. He’d watched Laurent, peaceful in sleep, counting his quiet, even breaths, and then the thought came to him, a clear, simple belief: _I want to have this for the rest of my life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akdjjdaj this took so long and im sorry but. this is just 1.5k words of fluff and im not going to pretend its anything else

The truth is that Damen has been planning this for months. 

The idea first came into his head around a year ago. He woke one morning, Laurent’s head nestled in the crook of Damen’s neck, his golden hair tickling his shoulder. He’d watched Laurent, peaceful in sleep, counting his quiet, even breaths, and then the thought came to him, a clear, simple belief:  _ I want to have this for the rest of my life. _

It startled him, a little, though perhaps it shouldn’t have. Damen’s had a lot of lovers, both good and bad, but rarely has he had so serious a commitment. He’s always wanted a family, yes, but it’s always been an abstract idea, a fantasy, something far-off. As sentimental as he is— which is a lot— he’s never thought much about settling down, not when he still feels young, not even when he’d been with Jo.

But of course, from the start, Laurent was—different.

And lately, more and more often, the abstract idea has solidified into the image of Laurent, with him, for always. It’s an image Damen wants Laurent to see, also, and he hopes Laurent likes it when he does. 

He’s never been the type prone to overplanning—that’s more of Laurent’s specialty—but he must have imagined this scene in his head a hundred times, rehearsed it, even. Laurent, here, in front of him, beautiful as always in that effortless way of his, the same faint smile on his face that means he is, for once, relaxed and comfortable. 

Carefully, Damen pats his coat pocket, checking for the small box. He thinks:  _ I want to make you happy always. _

Then, the waiter arrives to take their order. They’re offered a glass of wine.

“No, thank you,” Damen says. “We—”

“Yes, please,” Laurent cuts in, and Damen turns to stare at him. He’s spinning one of the rose stems between his fingers. “Not griva. Something good. Surprise us.”

To his credit, the waiter takes it entirely in stride. It’s not long before they are both served glasses of red wine. 

Laurent looks at him over the rim of his wine glass. “What?”

Damen shrugs. “You don’t drink often,” he says. “And you’ve never when we’re—” He gestures around himself, mildly confused and inexplicably captivated. Making assumptions about beautiful, unpredictable Laurent is never a good thing to do, anyway. “Out, together.”

“Well, it’s a special occasion.”

Damen’s pulse spikes. “Is it?”

Laurent smiles. “Isn’t it? This is the first dinner out we’ve had in…” He tilts his head, considering.  “Seven months?” 

Inwardly, Damen sighs in relief: Laurent doesn’t know. Yet. “Yeah, it’s a really special occasion.” When Laurent takes a worryingly large sip of the wine, Damen asks, “Is that a good idea?”

Laurent blinks at him, then puts the glass down gingerly. “You’re probably right. Sorry, it’s just been so long since we both got to relax. Though,” he winks, “I’m sure you’d take good care of me.”

Damen laughs. “You know I would.” 

Laurent smiles widely at that, and once their food arrives the conversation moves to more mundane topics—they really  _ have _ been busy, the sort of exhausting stress that only lets them see each other when they get home and before they get up in the mornings, and it’s enough of a privilege to be able to catch up.

For the most part, Damen stares unabashedly while Laurent chatters on about everything the kids have got up to at his work, and his new lesson plans, and that Nicaise’s been putting in an admirably good effort lately. It’s endearing, still, that he gets to see this, reassuring that Laurent lets him. Despite it all—the awful weeks of longing, the brief instances of irritation that always comes with their workloads—Damen thinks that he would never prefer it otherwise, would never want them both to be anything less than entirely free to be themselves. Laurent nudges him under the table and Damen laughs, obliging, trading a narrative of his own week. 

They talk for at least two hours, long past when their plates are both clean, and it reminds Damen of when they were first dating. By now, Damen’s impatient to get Laurent alone, to press him against their bed and kiss him breathless, but even now there’s still something he needs to say. 

It’s when the conversation winds down that Damen takes a deep breath. It doesn’t slip past Laurent, who turns curiously to him.

“Laurent... I want to ask you something,” he says, slipping a hand into his pocket and pulling out the box—

“I—wait! Wait!” 

Damen looks up, confused and more worried than he’d admit, but his gaze falls to the small, velvet box Laurent’s suddenly holding.

Damen’s  _ flabbergasted.  _ “I—Laurent, were you—did you—”

"You..." Laurent’s staring at him, open-mouthed, glancing from the box in Damen’s hands to the almost identical one in his palm. His eyes are wide and dark and blue. The box, when he opens it, holds a thick gold ring set with a diamond. “Oh, Damen,” he says, a low laugh shaking his chest. “God, Damen. Damen. Be my husband. Please, will you—”

The sound of his name from Laurent's lips is heady. Damen wonders if it’s possible to simply burst from affection and float into the skies. Instead of answering, he slides out of his chair and down on one knee, opening the box to reveal the gleaming gold ring inside. “Marry me,” he says, unable to stop the smile stretched across his face. “Marry me, Laurent, I love you so much.” The words pour out of him, unrehearsed and raw. “I want to give you everything, love, spend the rest your life with me, I want to make you happy always.”

The red flush across Laurent’s cheeks sets him aflame. “You’re so unfair,” he complains, pushing him lightly.  _ “I _ was supposed to do it. You're _awful.”_

Damen laughs, and Laurent curls his hands around Damen’s nape and pulls him close to kiss. 

“Yes,” Laurent whispers against his lips, “yes, please, yes.”

 

 

After, Laurent announces, “I don’t want to go home yet.” 

He puts up his watch, which says it’s already around past nine. Before Damen can say anything, Laurent slips his hand in Damen’s, tugging his forward. “It’s still early. There’s a park. Let’s take a walk.”

It’s not the best time for walking, mainly because Laurent is almost too inebriated to do so in a straight line, but Damen puts his arm around Laurent’s shoulder and supports him. Even like this, Damen is completely taken: Laurent’s hair is bright with the yellow glow of the streetlamp, the easy, free smile on his face breathtaking.

“You don’t think you’re a bit drunk for a walk?”

“No. I’m not drunk.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m tipsy, it’s very different. Why do you think I asked for the damn wine?” Laurent asks, arm looping around Damen’s neck. “I needed the adrenaline rush. And I was nervous at that point. I thought it would make it easier.” Stumbling, his head slips down to lean heavily on Damen’s shoulder.

“Make what easier?” 

“‘What’?” Laurent laughs, bright-eyed. He gives up on his pretence of walking, his other arm fumbling up to bury itself in Damen’s hair. Damen is smiling so hard his face hurts. Laurent pulls himself even closer, so that when he speaks, Damen feels the whisper of his breath directly against his ear: “You.”

Damen swallows. “Ah.”

Laurent sighs loudly, eyes pressed shut against Damen’s neck. “And I didn’t even get to  _ propose,” _ he says. “What a waste.”

“We both proposed. At the same time.”

“Well, that is  _ not _ how I planned it,” Laurent says. Huffing, he untangles himself from around Damen’s neck and tries to walk in a straight line without teetering. “Really. You keep overturning all my plans. It’s unbelievable.”

Damen tries not to laugh. “You know, you sound really petty right now.”

“You know what? We should have rehearsed this before doing it in a five-star restaurant.”

“Like, unreachable levels of petty. Laurent—” Laurent is getting down on one knee. “We’re in the  _ street, _ you’re—”

Laurent glances around him, a cursory check. “Relax. We’re not disturbing anyone.” 

“People are looking.”

“Good.”

Damen covers his mouth, muffling laughter. “What are you doing?”

The sight of him, drunk after three glasses of wine on one knee in the middle of the sidewalk, in the half-empty street, with only the streetlamp and the moon to illuminate his profile, is so lovely and ridiculous Damen wants to pick him up and kiss him. Laurent spreads his hands. “I don’t know, Damen, what does it look like I’m doing?”

Damen bites his lips. His heart is beating so hard he’s surprised Laurent can’t hear it. “Well, it looks like you’re wobbling and about to fall over—”

“Shh,” Laurent whispers, eyes half-closing. He takes Damen’s right hand, the one with Laurent’s ring on it. Laurent must feel his pulse now, fast and excited under his skin. “Shhhhh,” he says, grinning slyly, and Damen shushes, stunned into silence. Laurent kisses his fingers right below the ring, and warm affection rushes through Damen’s chest. “Damianos Theopoulos, will you marry me?”

Unbidden, Damen’s eyes fill with water.

Laurent stares at him in surprise, open-mouthed, eyes so comically wide Damen starts to laugh. “Yes,” Damen says, laughing, tears spilling over: “Yes, a hundred times yes, Laurent—”

“You’re crying—are you really—” Laurent stands up in alarm, cupping Damen’s cheek, brushing fingers under Damen’s wet lashes. Damen tries not to sniffle. “Why on  _ earth  _ are you crying?” 

In answer, Damen kisses him. 

“I’m happy,” he whispers into Laurent’s mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in my head modern damen & auguste r the good kids continuing their stressful family businesses and laurent is an overworked grad student who also teaches kids and is very deep in love w damen, dont fight me, im right
> 
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/julesdap/) / [tumblr](http://www.julesdap.tumblr.com)


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